


The Meaning Of Care

by casbackwardstie



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Officer!Reader, Sick Character, Sick!Reader, Sickfic, commander!kylo ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbackwardstie/pseuds/casbackwardstie
Summary: Stricken with a sudden onslaught of illness, you hope it’ll pass and you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Kylo takes it upon himself to aid in this endeavor.





	The Meaning Of Care

**Author's Note:**

> This is for: @Bucky_Loki_Girl , who requested this in the comments of my other fic: Call Me Kylo. Thank you for your suggestion and I hope you enjoy this!

All things considered, this is most definitely not a place you wanted to end up. Lying in bed feeling like you’ve gotten run over by a truck, head on fire as a faint pounding sensation resides at the back of your skull. The feeling of your nose starting to run causes a sniffle to disrupt the silence of your room, a groan following. Today is definitely not a day for clocking in. You’d messaged your supervisor what seemed like an eternity ago, but really must’ve only been an hour or so ago. You gave them notice of your intended absence. Upon review of your tasks, your supervisor let you off-the-hook today on the notion that: ‘if you’re not better by tomorrow, go to the medical wing.’. At least the First Order cares about the health of their soldiers.

You know the basics: get your fluids in, rest, and don’t over-exert yourself. Food is another important necessity, yet the feeling of fatigue seems almost too unbearable like you’re a helpless soul stuck inside a dead body. A knock on the door elicits a groan from your throat; the mere thought of the energy it’ll take to get up and unlock the door feels like too much. Luckily, the door opens and somehow the person enters without your keycode. Peeling the arm that’d been resting over your eyes away, the visitor appears before you.

“Commander?” It’s your newest friend; one might say he’s your only friend on the ship so far. His helmet lets out a sigh as he removes it. He shakes his hair out and tucks the helmet within the crook of his left elbow, his other hand holding a bag.

“I saw you hadn’t clocked into work today. I was informed your absence is due to illness?” Setting down the bag on your cot beside you, he puts his helmet down upon the dresser. A hum of understanding suffices in letting him know you’d heard his thoughtful words.

Closing your eyes once more; the hope of getting a few more hours of rest is pressing. You roll over to face away from him as he rummages about in your room, doing what? You don’t know. The comforter gets pulled up further, tucked in around your shoulders to keep you warm. Thank you, the thought crosses your mind, however, the words do not pass your lips.

Lids heavy, body still, your breathing is slow and the feeling of falling into sleep is inevitable. Smack! “Ugh!” A groan surpasses your lips as the back of Kylo’s giant hand rests against your forehead. The contrast of warmth from under your blanket and the chill coming from his hand sends a shiver through your body. He retracts his hand and you open one eye grumpily to question what his problem is.

Time slips from your mind until a damp wet cloth is laid onto your clammy forehead. “You’re burning up. Rest, I’ll be back soon.” Closing your eyes once more, the door opens and closes with a whir due to the mechanical door's motion.

It’s always weird when your body wakes up undue to an alarm, nor a nightmare. Opening your eyes, the clock on your nightstand reads 5:00 pm. A few hours have passed and truthfully you feel somewhat more lively.

By the time you get into bed after brushing your teeth and folding some clean laundry to put away later, the door opens. “You need to eat.” The Commander comes into your quarters to lay a tray of food onto the nightstand carefully. “Definitely shouldn’t visit the canteen anytime soon.”

Breathing deeply due to a stuffy nose, you give him a small smile. “Thank you,” the urge to say something more makes your heart want to leap inside your chest, yet, is it worth the conversation? He nods in response; standing still, his hands clasp together in front of him. “Why are you doing all this though?” The realization that you may come off ungrateful dawns on you. “Not that I don’t appreciate it,” adding onto your previous statement,  you gulp down the nervousness and bile that threatens to bubble up.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet from one foot to the other. His stance awkward as he rests against the wall with his arms now crossed over his chest. A quiet sigh emits from him as it’s obvious he’s thinking. As he begins to speak, the beeping of his wristwatch captures both of our attention. “It seems as though duty calls. Take care. Eat the food, you won’t recover without the proper nourishment.”

I nod in response. Clearly, our conversation will not conclude today, after all, the Commander is a very busy man. “Have a great day, go kick some butts!” A laugh tries to escape, but you end up coughing. Managing to calm yourself, you watch him swiftly make his way to the door. “Thank you Kylo,” the words come out softly, almost quiet enough that you doubt he’s heard you. The nod he gives contradicts the prior thoughts as he turns to look over his shoulder in the doorway.

“Get some rest. Once you recover there will be trying work ahead of you.”


End file.
